The Scare
by Shiggity Shwa
Summary: It's Halloween at the office and the day when the top salesman at the company is announced. Dwight thinks it's him, but there's a dangerous twist. And Jim and Pam work through some very personal problems.
1. Late

_AN: Sorry it took so long to get this up (that is what she said). Who's got two thumbs and a massive essay due Monday? This guy. So yeah, I'll try to update next whenever I can. And I hope you enjoy the first chapter.  
Real AN: This story is a little farfetched for the show I'll agree, but it had so much possibility to it, that I couldn't let it go, and I wrote 10 pages during my Early Brit-Lit class. So yeah. Also the last line break is for a different scene, not a talking head._

The Scare

Chapter 1

Late

Michael sat at his desk in his office with a saddened look on his face, "Ryan called me up early this morning and announced that dressing up for Halloween wasn't allowed this year because some people at some other branches don't celebrate the holiday and we wouldn't want to force them to celebrate it," Michael's voice was snippy and his nose scrunched as he finished his sentence, "I tried to bargain with him, I mean everyone here celebrates Halloween, but he still wouldn't let us. His exact words were, 'not in the office, Michael'."

The room went quiet as Michael thought the interview was done, but the camera panned up to show two floppy ears on the top of Michael's head.

"Oh," Michael chuckled and took off the accessory, "I was going to be that dog Ellen Degeneres beat or something, Izzy, or Icky, I don't know," he shook his head and played with the ears in his hand, "I was going to wear a baby bonnet and put on fake bruises and be one of Britney Spears' kids, but I thought that was too obvious."

* * *

Dwight walked into the office carrying his briefcase, as he walked to his desk; Jim uttered a, "Good morning Dwight."

"Jim," Dwight replied with a little venom on his voice. He placed his briefcase on the ground, and unlocked his lower desk drawer to pull out the handset of his phone.

Jim shrugged and returned back to work, typing up sales reports to hand into Michael by the end of the day. But only managed to fill out one column of answers before he realized that Dwight was staring at him. He stopped typing and cautiously let his eyes drift over, "Can I help you?"

"It has occurred to me that you haven't played one of your idiotic pranks on me in quite some time," Dwight stated matter-of-factly.

"Huh," Jim looked away from his computer and tried to recall if this was indeed true, "I guess you're right."

Dwight leaned forward sloppily pushing Jim's overlapping materials off his desk, "Why is that Jim?"

Jim shrugged and turned back to his computer, "I guess I've just been too busy for them," he added as he started on the next row of numbers. Dwight looked unappeased.

* * *

"I honestly have been forgetting to prank Dwight. I stopped for awhile after his breakup, because it was pretty bad, and now that I want to prank him, I can't think of anything to do to him," Jim held his chin as he mused aloud, "Maybe Pam will think of something when she comes in," a hint of concern evident in his voice.

* * *

"Jim has something up his sleeve," Dwight stared daggers into the camera, "I know it, and I've dealt with it too long. I will be ready to strike at his advances, and destroy his ridiculous plan, whatever it may be."

* * *

Andy walked behind Jim and got situated at his desk. He hadn't even turned on his computer before he leaned forward, his hands clasped together in his lap, "Are you guys excited for today?"

Jim turned his chair towards Andy, "Not really, I kind of got over the whole Halloween excitement things awhile ago, although I do plan on getting a stomach ache tonight and calling in sick tomorrow."

"No, Tuna, you idiot," Andy answered with sudden anger and turned to Dwight, "He knows what I'm talking about."

Dwight who was booting up his computer replied with, "I don't get excited any longer because I know what is going to happen. The same thing that happens every day, and week, and month and year."

"Oh right," Jim nodded and leaned back in his chair quickly sending a glance to the empty desk at reception, "Today is the day they announce the top salesman in the company."

"I win every time," Dwight didn't turn away from his computer screen and shielded his keyboard as he typed in his password, "I've already written my speech, I went along with last year's theme, but spruced it up."

"You are definitely going to give a war veteran a heart attack," Jim informed, as he returned to working once again.

Andy cleared his throat and when neither of the men looked at him, he spoke, "Well it's not set in stone is it?"

"I always win," Dwight pressed, leaning closer to his computer screen.

* * *

"I kind of want Andy to win," Jim smiled ruefully, "because it would torture Dwight to know he lost to Andy who only sold, sorry, co-sold fifty reams of paper this month," the smile faded from Jim's face as he added, "If Andy did win he would probably sing 'We Are The Champions' or something, so that ruins the fantasy a little."

* * *

"Pamela," Michael walked up to her desk and slammed his hands hard on the top, bouncing the jellybeans, "You are so late."

She swallowed harshly, his sentence hitting her harder than it was meant to, "I'm sorry."

"Twenty minutes Pam," Michael shook his head, while sucking in air through his mouth, "That's like a TV show."

"I know," she replied, her face drifting to Jim who was watching the display closely, "It won't happen again."

"I hope not," Michael chuckled, "That's like half of sixty minutes, that's a long time."

She didn't say anything, only bit her lip and watched as he continued his rant.

"What happened, did your car get stole by zombies?' Michael questioned with a laugh as he knocked on the desk, "Did, did you get attacked by ghosts? Like Bill Cosby and Patrick Swayze?"

"Yes Michael," Pam nodded her head calmly, "zombies stole my car and then ghosts of actors who are still alive attacked me," she agreed.

"Yikes," Michael's eyes grew large and he turned away from Pam's desk to Jim, "You'd better watch out today, she's in a mood." Jim pursed his lips and looked at the camera.

* * *

"Something tells me today is going to be a hard day," Michael spoke to the camera seriously, "There's so much pent up frustration in this office, usually Halloween cures that. Now everyone's about to explode, I mean Kevin? Have you even seen him today, he looks like he's going to murder someone."

* * *

"Dunder-Mifflin this is Pam," she answered the phone lazily as she typed something into the search bar of her computer. Jim approached the desk to get some jellybeans, "one moment please, I'll transfer you to Michael."

He smiled as he separated the candy in his palm, "Looks like this is the only candy anyone will get all day,"

She slammed down to phone to the receiver hard and turned her attention back to the computer. He watched her with concern, and when she finally took notice to him she questioned, "Is there something that you need?"

His face fell as he stood from leaning against the desk, "No," he shook her head and made his way back to his desk with a somber face.

Dwight watched the act, a shadow of a smile creeping to his lips.

* * *

"Jim is pretending to be in a fight with Pam, to see if I'll comfort him as he did to me a few weeks ago," Dwight shook his head, an evil grin playing on his lips, "Well I'm on to this little prank. Not really his best work either, he's even starting to slack off there. I could do a better job at pranking me"

* * *

Michael swung to door to his office open and ran into the middle of the room, "You guys I have news, news you aren't going to believe," Michael stopped speaking and looked directly into the camera, "The best news ever."

"If this is about how we're allowed to celebrate Halloween again—"

"Shut up, Stanley," Michael demanded as he pointed at the lethargic man, "Apparently there is a three way tie for salesman of the year."

"What?" Dwight stood from his seat, almost insulted.

"Am I in it?" Phyllis brightened at the idea.

Michael chuckled, "I said salesman didn't I?" her face faltered and he continued to speak, "Apparently, Dwight and Jim were neck in neck in sales,"

"Implausible," Dwight shook his head, "there is no way that slacker could ever amount to anything more than me."

"Doesn't Jim have the higher job title?" Andy questioned aloud.

"That," Dwight turned to Andy, "Is just a oversight."

"Well Andy is in the battle too," Michael announced with mild bafflement, "It says here he's been on the most sales calls this year, so he's in the running too."

"Yes," Andy pumped the air with his hand, "Chalk one up to the Grand master of Funk."

Jim turned towards Andy, "Why would a rapper get salesman of the year."

"Yeah," Kevin agreed with a stiff nod, "Shouldn't he get rapper of the year?"

"Settle down, Kevin," Michael demanded loudly as the large man glanced at him with half open eyes.

"How is this good news?" Oscar questioned.

Michael chortled almost sinisterly, "Because I get to decide the tiebreaker."

"Oh dear Lord," Stanley sighed.

* * *

"I hope Michael picks some sort of martial arts, hand-to-hand combat for the tiebreaker," Dwight stared into the camera and deadpanned, "I have several different weapons from different Asian cultures in my desk now, and if I need to I can wrap my tie around my head for a sweatband. I'm unstoppable."

* * *

"Well" Andy sighed and leaned back in his chair, "I've been hopping Michael takes us to a karaoke club, and have the decider be whoever can croon to the sweetest Dean Martin tune. I'd totally wipe the floor at that," he stopped and added, "Other than that, I'm kind of screwed."

* * *

"Honestly," Jim looked into the camera, "I don't care who wins or how, I have other things to worry about. "

* * *

Pam stood in the kitchen at the stove waiting for the kettle to boil. She sighed as she picked small pieces of lint off of her shirt, and almost jumped when the door opened and Jim entered the small room.

"Hey," he greeted as he moved to the coffee pot. He glanced over to her as he waited for a response.

She watched him and answered reservedly, "Hi."

"How was your art class last night?" he reached in the cupboard above to retrieve sugar.

She shrugged her face stoic, her answer curt, "It was fine."

Jim set his coffee cup on the counter and turned to her, "Alright, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied before he could even finish his question.

"Pam," he shook his head as she turned off the stove before her kettle could boil and moved swiftly to get around him, "Pam," he reached out and caught her by the forearm gently, "What is it."

"I-"she paused and glanced at the cameras, and then out to the office, where no one had noticed them yet, "I can't talk about it here."

He nodded and released her arm, watching intently as she walked through the office and out the main door. After a few minutes he left his cup on the counter and moved out into the office.

"So what do you think that Michael will make us do?" Andy questioned Dwight who was reviewing the contents of the envelopes Pam had printed off for him earlier.

"I don't know," Dwight answered, a hint of thought in his voice, "But whatever it is, it will be challenging."

Andy nodded and asked, "What percentage is there that it will be a singing contest?" When Dwight didn't answer Andy turned to Jim who was walking by, "Tuna, what do you think—"

"Not now," he replied as he walked passed his desk out the door to the office.

Phyllis turned in her chair, "Oh dear," she whispered as she watched him go.

"Oh please," Dwight scoffed, as he stared at the door as well, "It's all just a poorly played out prank."

* * *

She stood on the landing between the first and second floor, pacing in the small space, with her index finger in her mouth to nibble on the nail nervously. He walked down the stairs with his hands in his pockets, looking only half as nervous as he felt. The cameras were almost tucked around the corner, just enough room to film clearly the interaction between the two.

Jim stopped in the middle of her path, forcing her to stop and look at him, "What's going on?"

Pressing her lips together and playing with the butterfly on her necklace she stared at him a moment before checking all around the stairwell for any other signs of life. He watched her unmoving, and noiseless.

Finally, with a nervous giggle and a side glance up the stairs she informed, "I'm late."

* * *

_Coming Up - Michael gets some inspiration for his tiebreaker from an odd place_


	2. Drive

_AN: Sorry it took me so long to get up (that's what she said), like I said I have a massive essay sucking the life out of my very soul and leaving a bad aftertaste in my mouth. And I want everyone to know before hand that I was and still am a fan of 'Drive' and that's where the basis of the rest of the story starting now comes from. Oh and whoever reviewed to Receptionist Day asking about the last chapter title. It was named for a World Inferno/Friendship Society song. So love me._

_Oh and thanks for the reviews/alerts/favorites. You guys rock.  
_

The Scare 

Chapter 2 

Drive

* * *

The camera panned behind Michael as he sat at his computer and pulled up a webpage, he looked up to the camera and smiled as the page continued to load, then got an error message, "Oh damn it," he sighed and turned back towards the cameras.

"I have been trying to find ways to break a tie all morning," he exclaimed sounding exhausted. The camera quickly moved to the pile of papers cluttering the corner of Michael's desk, and then back to Michael. "So far I've only come up with drawing straws, but what is exciting about that?"

* * *

"Creed," Michael called as he marched over to the older man's desk, "Creed, how's it going?" 

"Good," he smiled and took off his glasses, not even bothering to minimize his game of online poker.

"Well, uh," Michael seemed odd around him, "How was your vacation?"

"Awesome, I got to see some old friends in Hong Kong, spend some time in a hut, ended up naked on a beach the third day," he closed his internet window, "I have some pictures if—"

"God no," Michael blocked the screen with his hand, "Yuck, I just wanted to know if you had any ways to break a tie."

"Well is it frozen?" he questioned moving closer to Michael, "Because you could always try scissors."

"What?" Michael looked at the man in amazement, "No I meant like a three-way tie how to pick a winner."

"Oh," Creed nodded his head, "Have you thought of a duel?"

"You mean like when people shoot guns at each other?" Michael scrunched his face while thinking.

"No, no, no," Creed leaned back in his chair, the arm of his glasses in his mouth, "It doesn't have to be guns. It can be swords, or arrows, or chainsaws, or –"

"God, no," Michael moved away from Creed's desk and back to his office in a hurry, "freak."

* * *

"I think they should decide who wins by whoever can drink the most shots without passing out," Meredith stated her face mirthful, "And then the losers by rounds for everyone."

* * *

"I think Michael should look at the past sales records of each person to see who has had the best sales," Angela glanced at the camera with skepticism, "I doubt Michael will even decide by company standards."

* * *

Toby sat in the chair looking at the camera, "Honestly, I just hope Michael doesn't kill anyone deciding this."

* * *

Jim stood staring at her. He hadn't said a word for the past five minutes, just simply stared at her with his jaw agape. She looked at him, like she needed him to say something, he blinked, twice, then spoke, "You're late, like to work or—" 

"Jim," she sighed while rolling her eyes. She was leaning against the wall opposite of the ascending stairs. Her one arm was cradling the other as she still bit the nails on her fingers.

"Yeah," he nodded, walking around the suddenly cramped space a bit, "right."

She watched him move, wanting something more from him.

He stopped pacing and placed a hand on the back of his hot neck, "Are you late as in this morning or as in yesterday or…" his voice drifted off as he watched her.

"Umm," she looked away from him towards the wall, and answered, "Last Sunday."

"Wow," Jim exclaimed before he could stop himself. She sent him a sideways glance and he added, "Sorry, just, four days? That seems like a lot of days out of a week."

"It is," she sighed and slide down the wall to the floor.

"Well," he shrugged and crossed the small platform in one stride, "Nothing is set in stone, I mean, you're only late."

As he sat down beside her, she bit her lower lip, and blurted out, "I took a pregnancy test."

He turned his head towards her quickly, "What? When? What did it say?"

She couldn't help the smile that came to her face, "Jim, do you think we would be talking this much over a negative pregnancy test?"

He chuckled a little, though it was more for her than him, "So it was positive?"

"Actually," she turned to face him for the first time, "It wasn't a plus or a minus sign, it kind of looked like a block formation in Tetris."

He raised an eyebrow, "You got a defective pregnancy test, Pam?" A loose smile fitted around her lips as he nudged her, "Our future depends on a defective pregnancy test?"

"I made a doctor's appointment this morning after I took it, that's why I was late," she explained as wrapped her arms around her knees, then added, "For work, I mean."

"When's the appointment?" he questioned, as he draped his arms over his knees and stared at the wall directly in front of him.

"Noon, tomorrow," she replied, "I didn't want to have to explain to Michael why I was leaving."

Jim nodded, "I'll be there."

She shook her head, "Jim, it'll just be a blood test and other stupid things. You don't need—"

"I want to be there," he interrupted as he placed a hand on her knee.

Pam nodded her head and glanced at her watch, "We need to get back," she began to get up, but Jim placed a hand on her shoulder, "We don't need to go anywhere until you're ready," he informed in a soft voice.

A lazy grin spread on her face as she sat back down, her head resting on his shoulder, and her eyes closed leaving Jim alone in his thoughts in the silence.

* * *

"I am one hundred percent sure that I will be crowned the salesman of the year," Dwight appeared to be peeved at the questioned, his nostrils flaring a bit as he spoke, "I am so confident I have the spot cleared from my other thirteen plaques to place my newest plaque in," he gave his head a stiff nod allowing the audience to take his certainty in, "Also, I have told Mose to order the water heater we've needed for the past four years. I will pay for it with my prize money."

* * *

"What am I going to do with the prize money?" Andy questioned to the camera, his body twisting in the chair, "Oh I don't know," he paused a knowing grin on his face, "A little something called, 'going crazy'!" he laughed and elaborated further, "Go out with the boys, get a couple of foghorns, get some monkeys drunk, bet on a couple of dogs, the options are limitless."

* * *

Jim sat in the chair, looking more than uncomfortable, "Hmm, what am I going to do if I win?" he placed his hand on his chin while in thoughts, "Well, I'll put the plaque on an empty place on my mantle, where I was going to put the photo Pam and I are going to take at Christmas time for the cards, because, obviously it's a better choice," his jovial expression seemed to melt away as he added, "And I'll save up the money, because I have a feeling I'll be needing it soon."

* * *

"Alright guys," Michael clapped his hands together as he exited his office, "I have the perfect way to settle this three way." 

"Oh," Jim winced, "Could we not call it that?"

"What have you decided Michael?" Dwight questioned, leaning forward onto his desk, "Whatever you chose it is the right answer."

"I'm glad you said that," he slimed gleefully, "Because I have chosen a drag race."

"Nope?" Jim pursed his lips and shook his head, "not going to do that."

"Well sorry Jimbo, because there is only one way to settle this," he added an elongated pause for effect, "And that is a drag race."

"Drag racing," Oscar questioned with serious doubt.

Michael threw up his head and sighed, "Yes Oscar, the art of punching it to make it to a finish line first. Come on haven't you seen '2 Fast 2 Furious'? Your people perfected this."

Oscar shook his head, and went back to work.

"So Jim, Dwight and Andy," Michael pointed to the three men with three fingers on this left hand, "At lunch we'll find an empty ravine or something and you guys can let loose," he spun quickly and pointed to Angela, "You're in charge of finding the spot. Pam figure out carpools."

"No," Pam shook her head, "Michael this is dangerous."

"And illegal," Angela added as she crossed her arms.

"And where in Scranton is there a ravine?" Meredith wondered aloud.

"Fine," Michael groaned, "Then make your own ravine and it's only illegal if they catch you."

Andy looked confused, "How can you have a three man drag race?"

"You can have a million man drag race," Michael boosted himself up on to the reception desk, completely blocking Pam out. She sighed. "Haven't you guys ever seen the TV show Drive?"

"What?" Jim questioned, looking exhausted.

Michael moaned, "It was a TV show about drag racing across America."

"I think you mean The Amazing Race," Phyllis suggested.

"No," Michael stated sourly, "That was across the world and real. This was across America and fake."

"Sounds stupid," Stanley muttered.

"It was not," Michael defended, "It was amazing."

"I think I might have seen it," Kevin spoke as he moved to put something into the fax machine, "Wasn't it cancelled."

"Damn it Kevin," Michael sighed leaning back on Pam's desk further, "That's not important."

"So you're going to decide who gets salesman of the year by using the basis of a show that was cancelled," Jim questioned as he swiveled in his chair.

"No," Michael shook his head in dismay, "I can't give you all cell phones," but then he perked up as he remembered something, "But Ryan did give the sales team Blackberries and everyone has cell phones."

"Oh dear Lord," Stanley murmured as he put away his crossword puzzle.

"Alright, forgot the drag race at lunch," Michael hopped off Pam's desk, "We're going to have our very own Drive."

"Yes," Dwight pumped his hand into the air, "Michael can I be on your team?"

"Nope," Michael shook his head once, "I'm going to be the mysterious boss figure that assigns your teams, picks the locations and forces you to participate."

Jim nodded, "Good casting."

Michael clapped his hands together, "Everyone, I will have your teams and your first set of directions ready for you at lunch. So get ready to drive."

* * *

_Coming up - The teams are announced and the first challenge is anything but._


	3. Team

_AN: Good day everyone, so many reviews in such a short time, I had to get my act together and hurry up and post. So thank you. Also now the chapter breaks are used to seperate the different cars everyone is driving in. And the fact that I have no knowledge of Scranton geography, so Daniels' Farm is completely fictitious. And finally and most important I do **Not** know what I'm going to do with the Jim and Pam story line (baby or no baby) so tell me what you want or prefer, because I've got great storylines planned either way._

The Scare

Chapter 3

Teams

* * *

"This," Michael chuckled to himself at his own thought, "Is going to be the best Halloween ever. I mean sure we're forbidden to wear any costumes at the office, and there was no money in the budget for a party or a bag of candy, but instead everyone gets to go on five Halloween based excursions and pay for it themselves," Michael threw up his hands in the air, "I honestly don't know what's better."

* * *

Everyone stood outside, proper fall jackets wrapped around their bodies as they huddled together in a group to wait for Michael, who had demanded they all wait outside for him. Finally after fifteen minutes, Michael ran out of the building, carrying five envelopes.

"Everyone," Michael began huffing from the sprint he had done from the building, "Each team will have a sales person, who will have a blackberry and cell phone to receive the clues to the locations."

"I am not doing this," Stanley spoke honestly.

"Well, you can't let your team down," Michael answered as he held up an envelope marked 'Team Stanley'. He began walking around the group handing out the packages to Jim, Dwight, Stanley, Phyllis and Andy, "On your team list, you will have who is on your team, whose car you will be taking, who is driving and your first clue," he added the final part with an eerie voice, "After you have made it to the first area, I will call you up with your second clue."

"How long will this take?" Oscar questioned, his body hunched over in the cold.

Phyllis nodded emphatically, "Yeah Michael, Bobby is taking me out to supper tonight."

Michael sighed and placed his hand over his eyes, "About two and a half hours."

Pam arched an eyebrow, "Are all the places in Scranton?"

"Yes Pam," Michael replied back spitefully and under his breath added, "Most of them are." He stood awkwardly before them all and after a few minutes of silence rambled out, "Find your teams and good luck."

Michael rushed passed the group, ignoring the starting of their questions, and then back into the building. After a few minutes, he could be seen spying on them from between the blinds of his office window. There seemed to a collected sigh as everyone moved off to find their groups.

Stanley approached Oscar, "you're on my team," he statement lacking zest.

"Oh," Oscar answered with equal lack of enthusiasm, "What does the first clue say?"

"I don't care," Stanley crumpled up the envelope and threw it in a nearby garbage can, "I'm going out for lunch."

Oscar waited a few minutes, then caught up to Stanley, "Can I come?"

Before Stanley answered Creed moved between the pair, "I'll come too," they glanced at him and he added, "Where are we going."

"It says here we're supposed to use Meredith's van," Phyllis held the paper closer to her face as she adjusted her glasses.

Kelly rolled her eyes, "But my car is so much cuter, I just synchronized my iPod to it."

"Whatever," Meredith exclaimed, then hiccupped, "it says my van so we have to take my van."

She stumbled ahead of the other two women, and fished in her pocket for the keys. Phyllis watched with concern as Kelly uttered, "Ew."

"You are so lucky," Andy exclaimed as he moved alongside Kevin, "I'm awesome at figuring our riddles, and car games."

Kevin didn't seem impressed as he moved to the driver's side of his car as Andy continued to talk, "We're so going to win this man, you and me, team Kevandy all the way." Andy opened up the passenger's seat and hit the dashboard with his hand out of excitement and then turned to look at Kevin, "Have you ever played road kill bingo?"

"Hey," Jim walked over to where Pam stood with her arms wrapped around her body. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Hi," she greeted back, her teeth almost chattering.

"You're on my team," he stated somewhat awkwardly. Everything between them was suddenly awkward, "Actually you are my team."

"Oh," Pam responded, she wasn't overly excited but she didn't frown, he took that as a good sign.

"Yeah, Creed was supposed to be on our team too," he paused and gave the parking lot a second glance, they were the last two people in it, "But I can't find him anywhere."

Pam let out a nervous laugh, "So whose car are we taking?"

"Well," Jim held out his information so she could read it, "It says we're supposed to take Creed's but I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a car, and if he does I'm pretty sure I don't want to add grand theft auto to my rap sheet."

She smiled, and his mood faltered a bit when she didn't react more, "Can we take your car?' she questioned, "I don't feel like driving."

"Yeah," he answered immediately as they made their way to his car, "Absolutely."

He opened the door for her, and walked to the other side to get in, the smile no longer on his face.

Angela and Dwight were left looking at each other in the shadows of the building across the empty parking lot.

"Unbelievable," she rolled her eyes as she approached Dwight's Trans Am. The smile evident on his face as he started the engine.

* * *

Michael sat giggling in his office with a list of cell phone numbers and email addresses strewn across his desk, "I separated them into teams that would maximize the drama," he flashed his hands on the word 'drama'. "We have the all girl team in the minivan, which is going to be great because Meredith's drunk I think. And Stanley and Oscar are like the race team. Race as in culture, not race as in Drive." He cleared his throat and continued, "Andy and Kevin team is like Dumb and Dumber, except one of them is almost asleep and the other one is on a sugar rush."

He pulled the list of groups out of the pile, having already forgotten who he assigned, "Oh Jim and Pam are like the husband-wife team, and Creed is the dirty old man who messes things up," he chuckled at his genius, "And Angela and Dwight are together because they were left over."

* * *

"So what does our first clue say, Kevmiester?" Andy questioned as he bounced his head to a song that had a slow rhythm.

Kevin glanced over at him slowly, then back to the road, "it says to go somewhere where they offer a pumpkin carving class."

"Hmm," Andy squinted his eyes while he was in thought, "There has to be more to the clue than that?"

* * *

"Where are we going?" Angela demanded as she leaned against the passenger door with her body, trying to physically be as far away from Dwight as possible.

"We are going to the Daniels' farm to take pumpkin carving classes," Dwight answered her stoically. Although a hint of a smile still remained on his lips.

* * *

"Oh my God," Kelly was leaning up between the two front seats, "I hope we get to go to the mall, I love the mall, we should totally go shopping together after work sometime. Oh my God you guys we could bring Pam, and have like a girl's night out. And Angela too, if she's ever happy. We could talk about clothes and TV shows and boyfriends."

Phyllis smiled, "I love to girl talk Kelly," she answered turning her head to view Kelly, "I think that's a marvelous idea, I'd love to do it, what about you Meredith?"

"I don't care," Meredith replied with a little stutter, "As long as we do it in a bar."

Phyllis pursed her lips and Kelly looked away from the driver, and then back to Phyllis, "Hey, so how far do you think Pam as gotten with Jim?"

Phyllis giggled lightly, "I don't know, but I know what I would do if I was with him."

Meredith laughed aloud as Kelly hit her shoulder playfully, "Oh my God, you did not just say that."

Controlling her giggles, Phyllis sighed, "I doubt they've gotten passed kissing, they're both too shy."

* * *

"So," Jim spoke into the empty car as Pam busied herself by looking out the window, "Are you excited?" She whipped her head away from the window and looked at him with shock. He quickly added, "I mean about the pumpkin carving."

"Oh," she looked away from him to the dashboard, "Yeah, I haven't done it in awhile."

He sighed, not giving into the barriers she set, "Are we going to talk about this more."

She didn't pretend to play stupid, "Not now," her reply was stern as she sent a sideways glance to the camera.

"We need to talk about it," he pressed as he changed lanes and pulled down the dirt road towards the Daniels' Farm.

"We will," she agreed still aware of the camera, "Just not right now."

His lips pursed into a straight line, as he began to grow angry, "Why not?" his voice was almost too calm.

Pam drew a deep breath in, "Because the entire world doesn't need to know about this."

He pulled into a gravel lot finding a spot beside what he knew was Dwight's car, "They're going to learn about it sooner or later," he informed as he jiggled the keys from the ignition and turned to face her.

"Not of there's nothing to find out," she argued, crossing the arms of her puffy coat over her chest.

He turned to her in the car and cocked an eyebrow, "Are you really that sure that you're not –"

She leaned forward, gripping the sides of his face and kissed him. He moved his hand to the back of her neck to deepen the kiss and laughed against her lips. She pulled away from him with a smile, and moved her hands down to adjust the collar of his shirt, "We'll talk about it later, I promise."

He nodded his head and rested his forehead against hers, "Okay." He kissed her again quickly, and spoke, "Let's carve a pumpkin."

* * *

_Coming up - Pumpkin carving gets dirty for the 3 groups that made it. _


	4. Pumpkin Guts

_AN: Hey guys, thanks for the reviews/comments/favorites/alerts/suggestions. I'm like 96 sure which way I'm going with the pregnancy thing,I think it was going to turn out this way not matter what decision I made. This fic is going to be long, longer than most. I'm guessing at least 10 chapters, but then again i never know how to outline. It's just an estimate, so this fic will not be done by Halloween. The next chapter will probably be up Thursday, I have a German test to study for, so, preoccupied. _

The Scare

Chapter 4

Pumpkin Guts

Stanley, Oscar and Creed sat at a booth in the corner of a Chili's. A bunch of empty glasses were thrown across the table and the three men noisily worked on their baby back ribs. Oscar stopped every few minutes to wipe the extra hot sauce from his fingers.

* * *

"I set my New Year's resolution early this year, it's to not participate in any of Michael's childish games, and instead, take the day off," Stanley spoke into the camera, nodding his head at times to emphasis the words.

* * *

"You guys, we should each do a pumpkin," Kelly suggested as she weaved through the pumpkin patch, "I know it would cost three times as much, but it's so much fun. No one should miss out."

Phyllis smiled, as she walked along the outside of the grooves of growing vegetables, "I've already carved a couple at home with Bob for the front porch, I'm okay just watching."

"Awesome, then can I totally carve it because I love doing it?" Kelly was bounding through the vines, "I have a totally original idea too, we're definitely going to win with it."

Phyllis shrugged and glanced to where Meredith was standing on a small hill by the orchard, she produced a flask and took a heavy drink, "I don't think Meredith will mind."

From a few rows over Dwight and Angela could be seen arguing over one of the orange vegetables. Angela held one in her right hand, with her left hand placed on her hip as Dwight chastised her, "Angela that is nowhere near the correct size for the perfect pumpkin, it is hardly equal on each side and has more than twelve grooves," he shook his head in disbelief, "I can't imagine why you would want a pumpkin like that. Do you want everyone to laugh?"

"Hey Dwight," Jim greeted as he walked with a hand in his pocket and the other one grasping Pam's hand.

Dwight dropped his anger and took on a stoic expression, "Jim."

"How's the pumpkin hunt going?" He asked as Pam moved away from him and began to examine the vegetables around her carefully.

Dwight scoffed, as he picked up a different pumpkin and practically tossed it aside, "We're going to pick the perfect pumpkin and complete with the perfect carving, we will win this excursion."

"Nope," Jim shook his head, "I don't think you can win an excursion."

"Then we'll be the first," Angela interrupted the conversation and sending him a dirty look, as she pulled Dwight away to continue the search.

Jim raised his eyebrows and glanced over to Pam. She was standing on the balls of her feet before a cylindrical pumpkin and giggled, "Weird," he shook his head as he watched them walk away.

"Find anything good?" he questioned as he crouched down beside her, smiling at her mirth.

She nodded and held up the large pumpkin, "I like this one."

He chuckled, "This one Pam? It's seriously deformed," he placed his hand on the rough skin of the pumpkin and wonder why it turned out looking almost like a tennis racquet.

"I think that's why I like it," she added as she tapped the pumpkin twice.

"Alright," he sighed, as he stood up tall, taking the pumpkin under one arm and helped Pam up with his other hand. She smiled moving closer to his body than usual, and the action made him smile. They began to walk to the carving class as he announced, "I don't know how I'm supposed to carve a pumpkin that looks like that."

"Who said you were carving the pumpkin?" she asked innocently as she moved his arm from her shoulders to around her waist.

"Hmm," he mumbled, kissing the top of her head as they walked by Dwight and Angela, acknowledging them with only a small smile, "So I get to watch?"

"Of course not," she leaned into him playfully, "You get to clean out the pumpkin guts."

* * *

"I do not appreciate pagan holidays," Angela spoke to the camera, "The Lord only gives you what you can handle, but Dwight on Halloween and having to watch unscrupulous acts of passion from those two," she fanned herself with her hand, "Something good better happen tomorrow."

* * *

"Okay everyone," A man dressed like a farmer wearing worn overalls, a plaid shirt and a straw hat stood at the head of a long picnic table, "Does everyone have their pumpkin picked?"

A group of children yelled in response, they were stationed around the table in clumps. Dwight and Angela were directly across from Jim and Pam. Angela kept sending glares and Dwight's lower lip kept twitching. Down from them, Phyllis and Kelly stood with a bulbous pumpkin before them on the table. Between them were a class trip from a middle school, and one from a daycare.

"Well alright," the farmer nodded with a smile, "And you do know that this class is supposed to be for children, right?" he questioned eyeing Dwight.

"We were instructed to come here," Dwight informed in a professional voice.

"Uh huh," the farmer answered with doubt and turned his attention back to the children, "Okay kids, remember what I just showed you, and get at it." He hollered and waved his hat in the air to commence the pumpkin carving.

"Okay Pam," Jim stood behind her watching her stare at their misfit pumpkin, "Remember what he told us." The prior lesson had been on how to cut basic geometric shapes into a pumpkin.

"Well you've got to do the dirty work first, I don't want to touch that gross stuff," she scrunched her nose as she looked at the pumpkin with a ring cut around the top.

Angela scoffed watching as Pam moved behind Jim, hiding her face behind his back so she didn't have to look as he scooped out the gooey insides of the pumpkin and tossed them into the bucket on their half of the table.

Dwight standing beside her, slammed their pumpkin into the table harshly. Angela turned her glare towards him and he stated, "Banging it loosens the innards."

Jim shook his head and threw a large sopping pile of seeds into the white bucket. Thank God Michael wasn't here. He was sure he couldn't stand the bombardment of 'that's what she said' today.

"Are you almost done?" Pam questioned, her face still hidden behind Jim's coat.

"Not even close," he replied back with a chuckle, "This whole thing is seeds, it's like genetically mutated."

"Not funny Jim," Dwight now had the pumpkin turned upside down, and started to punch the bottom of it, "biogenetic engineering of vegetables is a one of the ten plagues on today's modern society."

* * *

"I would never biologically change anything about my beets," Dwight was standing against his Trans Am, Angela visible in the front seat, "Unless I somehow came across Superman's DNA, then I would be doing a favor to mankind by creating super beets." He paused for a moment, thinking of the repercussions, "Although they would all wither around Kryptonite." (X)

"Really?" Jim questioned with mock interest as he threw more seeds into the bucket with a slopping sound. "What are the other nine?"

Dwight twisted his head up in alarm, like he mentioned something he shouldn't have.

"What?" Jim questioned moving his innocent eyes away from his pumpkin mess to urge Dwight on.

"It involves early morning television and cellophane wrap," Dwight moved his head back down, stabbing at the inside of his pumpkin with a blunt spoon, "that's all I can say."

"I don't want to touch the inside," Kelly announced from the other side of the table, "That's gross and this pumpkin is so big."

"I have reactions when I touch pumpkin seeds, Bobby always cleans them out for me," Phyllis explained from a safe distance away from the pumpkin.

Kelly sighed and placed her hands on her hips as she watched the untouched pumpkin, "Well where is Meredith? She has to do something. I mean I know she drove us here, but were barely arrived alive."

* * *

In the parking lot, Meredith's beige van could be seen parked diagonally across almost four spots. The camera watched as Meredith opened the driver's seat and grabbed a bottle from underneath, adding some of the liquid to her Styrofoam cup of hot cider.

* * *

"Well," the farmer announced fixing his straw hat, "We have some mighty fine pumpkin carving here." He was walking around the table, examining the art, paying special attention to all the kids' pumpkins.

"I thought you had an original idea Kelly?" Phyllis questioned staring at the carved pumpkin that looked like all the other children's pumpkins.

"Hello?" Kelly questioned, "I totally gave it eyelashes because it's a girl. And I made it winking because that is so cute."

"Excuse me," Dwight raised his hand, getting the attention f the farmer, "I believe all other pumpkins pale in comparison to mine," He held up his pumpkin with a form carved into its orange skin.

"What is that?" Pam questioned as she squinted at the carving.

"Expected," Dwight sighed and placed the pumpkin down, "It's a Cylon from the original Battlestar Galactica series."

"Even I knew that," Angela muttered, leaning against the table with her back turned to the couple.

"Wow," Jim explained as he turned their pumpkin to examine it again, "And I thought your homage to Jason was good."

Pam had carved a large knife taking the expanse of their pumpkin's face as a canvas. It was overly detailed, different levels of the pumpkin's skin still visible to add effect and shading.

Dwight let out a superior scoff, "Obviously Michael will like ours better, since it obeys the ancient rules of Jack O'Lantern carving and all pumpkin skin was removed."

Looking over her shoulder at Pam's pumpkin, Angela ripped her body around, "Pam, you cannot place that outside, children are impressionable, you'll turn them all into murders and Satanists."

"We're not going to put it outside," Pam ignored Angela's outburst.

Jim nodded in agreement, "Michael obviously forgot to get pumpkins so he's getting us to do it for him."

Making a noise of protest, Angela succeeded, but not without uttering, "Thank God you have no children."

"Angela," Jim protested as Pam said nothing, but hurried away from the table towards the parking lot.

* * *

"Well I have no idea where we're supposed to go," Andy shook his head, his hand over his mouth as he stared out the window into the drab, gray October sky.

Kevin let out a noise from his throat, "We've been to all the grocery stores, and all the nurseries in town, I think it's time to go to the Daniels' farm."

"No," Andy shook his head, "I'm not taking the easy way out."

"Andy, it's the right answer," Kevin reminded a hint of anger behind his fatigued voice. He put on the turn signal to drive it the direction of the farm.

"No," Andy shouted and turned the wheel back before Kevin could switch lanes, "We are going to figure this out." Kevin made the noise in his throat again and Andy added, "Now do you know the words to the song, 'The Ghost of Tom'?"

* * *

_Coming up - Michael gets in contact with the teams, and the next task is given._


	5. Challenged

_AN: Happy Halloween everyone. I might not be able to update tomorrow, but as I sit watching scary movies in the dark I'll be writing the next several chapters, so I might update once more tonight.  
This has a lot of Jim and Pam in it. I didn't mean for so much, so I apologize. Also the Jim and Pam part takes place chronologically before all of the other parts, I wanted to clarify that._

The Scare

Chapter 5

Challenged

"I can't believe we won the carving contest," Kelly was all smiles as she lugged the round pumpkin with a blue ribbon stuck to the top of it back to Meredith's van.

Phyllis smiled purely for Kelly's pleasure, she knew the only reason Kelly had won was because the farmer had thought a child carved their pumpkin. When she looked up she saw Kelly, staring at her expectantly she offered, "You did a great job," Phyllis' compliment lacking emotion.

"Thanks," Kelly turned her attention back to walking, her face strangely mimicking that of the pumpkin. Phyllis did find something eerie about that, "Where's Meredith?"

They glanced around the graveled lot, trying to find any remnants of the red-head, but there was only a cold gust of wind as dark clouds loomed over the already distant sun, "Looks like it's going to rain," Phyllis stated as she approached the side doors to the van, "She left it unlocked, I think it's best to wait inside until she comes back."

Kelly nodded in agreement, waiting for the doors to open so she could set her champion pumpkin inside. As they slide open, the image of Meredith, draped over the backseat, obviously drunk was seen.

"Can't drive," Meredith muttered and tossed the keys out the door. Both girls shot back and they landed in the gravel with a clang.

"Okay Meredith," Phyllis nodded, her voice soft as she bent her knees and retrieved the keys, "You just take it easy." She slide the door closed again and bit her lip as she turned to Kelly.

Kelly laid her head atop her pumpkin, "Ew."

* * *

"I totally took a picture of me and the farmer and my pumpkin on my new cell phone," Kelly held up the device that showed her with her arms around a confused farmer's neck, the pumpkin in most of the foreground, "I'm going to email it to Ryan, and tell him that I won because the farmer said I was the cutest. And that maybe we fooled around a bit."

* * *

"Why are we bringing that?" Angela gestured to the pumpkin Dwight carried under his arm, "We lost, it's useless now."

Dwight shook his head, a sly smile on his face, "If it is true, and Michael does not have any pumpkins for his front walk, he can use mine."

* * *

"Mose and I have already carved several pumpkins for our vast porch at the beet farm," Dwight sat against the trunk of his car with his arms crossed, "I've carved all fifteen original main characters from 'Lost', including Vincent the dog."

* * *

Dwight opened the trunk of his car, and placed the pumpkin inside gently, he reached for the hood and pulled it down, slamming it hard several times before it finally stayed shut.

Angela rolled her eyes at him from the other side of the car as he unlocked the door, and leaned over, unlocking hers, "Why are you keeping it for Michael."

"Because Michael needs it," Dwight answered as if it were programmed in him and reached into his pockets to pull out a garish keychain.

Angela clicked her seatbelt into place and stated, "You do all these things for Michael and what has he done for you?"

"He offers me his friendship, and allows me to keep surveillance on the office for him," Dwight shoved the key into the ignition, cranking it several times before the car shuddered to life and spewed a black cloud of exhaust behind it.

"You get nothing from that relationship," Angela straightened out her clothing, pressing the wrinkles free of them, "You know it, Dwight."

"Oh really?" Dwight questioned as he looked behind him, and waited for an SUV to pull into the spot across from him before pulling out, "What did I get from our relationship?"

Immediately, Angela's harsh expression fell off her face, replaced with regret. She placed her hands on her knees, and turned to look out the window, rather than answer his questioned.

Changing the gears of his car, Dwight sighed as he threw it into drive. Across from him to people exited the SUV and Andy ran out to the middle of the parking lot, "Hey Angela," he called waving his arms through the arm as he approached the car.

Before he could take another step, the car roared as Dwight slammed the gas pedal, out of the parking lot and towards the next destination.

* * *

"Dwight," Andy sighed as he shook his head. His lips were rolled against each other, "I swear that dude is blind, how can you not see waving arms. It's how most people in the ocean are saved."

* * *

"Pam," Jim called as he ran after her through the woods. His cell phone was ringing for the second time against his belt, and as he glanced at the caller identification, for the second time it was Michael. He sighed and turned the ringer off, glad he left his Blackberry in the top drawer of his desk, where it sat since the day Ryan presented it to him.

His feet followed the dirt path that lead back to the parking lot, the gravel crunching underneath his feet as he approached her figure reclined against the passenger's door. He slowed his pace and stopped beside her, "Hey," he wrapped a hand around her forearm, trying to comfort her.

She pulled away from him, startling him a bit as she tried to hide her tears, "I'm going to be a terrible mother."

"What?" Jim questioned, leaning against the door behind her, fighting the urge to reach out to touch her again, "because Angela said so? Pam, carving a knife into a pumpkin doesn't make you a bad mother."

She sniffled, bringing a hand up to paw at her tears, "It's not that Jim, there are so many things that make me a bad mother."

"Like the fact that you don't have any kids?" Jim joked hoping to lighten.

She turned around, her cheeks shiny and red from tears, "Let's just go," she told him, moving away so he could unlock the door.

"No," his lips formed a line as he shook his head, "Pam, you're not going to be a bad mother," her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she stared at him, "What makes you think that?"

She shrugged, "I forget things."

"So?" he mimicked her shrug, "Everyone forgets things."

She swallowed harshly and leaned back against the door, "I mean big things, like my purse. All the time. In the grocery store, at the mall, on a bench. What if I just leave the baby in a cart?"

A weak smile grew on his lips as he leaned next to her, "Pam, you're not going to forget the baby in a cart."

"What happens if I forget it in the car?" she questioned turning to him, her eyes seeking solace.

He moved his hands to his pockets, to keep from wrapping around her shoulders, "I will always double check the cars and the carts."

"What if I drop it?" she asked, ignoring his solution, "What if it wiggles out of my arms?"

He chuckled at her question, and it only grew as she glared at him, "Pam, honestly?" he shook his head and tried to cover his smile with a hand, "You're not going to drop the baby."

"What if it tries to get away from me and falls?" she asked, his jovial attitude was not contagious, "What if it hates me?"

Jim stopped laughing and watched her for any tell that his was a joke. A few seconds passed by in silence, as Jim's cell phone vibrated. He sighed and placed it in the gravel, "Why would our baby hate you?"

She shrugged, a new batch of tears brewing in her eyes, "What if it knows it was a mistake."

"It's not a mistake," Jim replied, moving his arm around her shoulder, this time with more success as she leaned into him, "it's a surprise."She laughed with a sniffle, but two fresh tears streaked down her face. "Hey," he moved his other hand to wipe them away, "it's not a bad thing."

She moved her eyes to his, "What if it ruins us?" her voice held an urgent seriousness that struck him as odd, "Jim, we've almost been together for six months."

"We were together before that," he answered, his hand falling to mingle his fingers with hers. They sat in silence, listening as his cell phone vibrated again and off into the distance Kelly screeched with delight, "Pam, it's not going to ruin us, because nothing could stop the way I feel about you."

She sniffled as she smiled at him; her eyes joyful once again, "Even this?"

"Especially not this," he responded as he leaned forward and captured his lips with his.

"Jim," she spoke against his lips. When he mumbled a response she added, "Answer your phone."

He sent her a sideways glance as he bent down to pick up his phone, "Hello?" he questioned knowing for sure it was Michael.

"Jim," Michael called out over the phone loud enough Pam could hear him. She watched with amusement as Jim shrugged and listened to his boss's tangent, "You're lucky you picked up, three or four more phone calls and I would've called the coastguard."

"The coastguard?" Jim repeated, his eyebrows furrowed, "I don't think they would help much."

Michael groaned into the phone, "Maybe it's time you put a little faith into your fellow man," he replied, "So what happened? Did Pam turn on the bitch switch?"

"Umm, nope."

"Oh ho ho," Michael chuckled into the phone, "She flipped sides and you got lucky, didn't you."

Jim sighed, "Michael."

"Alright, alright," Michael voice was a little higher than usual and a hint of laughter was still evident in his voice, "Did you guys have fun in the pumpkin patch."

"I guess," Jim really didn't care for small talk; he just wanted to know why Michael was phoning. On second thought this was Michael Scott so calling for small talk could've been his point.

"You didn't see any of those creepy babies did you?" Michael asked his voice lowering.

"I don't think so," he glanced to Pam, who looked puzzled.

"I always stay away from pumpkin patches now because of them," Michael replied as he sighed into the phone obviously bored with no one in the office.

"I think he means Cabbage Patch Kids," Pam whispered. His eyes grew wide and he snorted to hold in laughter.

"So did you guys get your pumpkin on?" Michael spoke once again after Jim didn't reply to his last comment.

"Michael, did you phone to tell us the second clue?" Jim asked, hoping to get this conversation over with as soon as possible.

"Oh yeah," Michael paused and there was a ruffling of paper, "Your next clue is to go to the mall and pick out a costume." There was silence and Michael questioned, "Did you get that?"

"To go to the mall and buy a costume?" He looked to Pam and then focused back on the phone, "We got it."

"Okay," his voice dragged out like he didn't want to hang up the phone, "Oh hey, how's Creed?"

"He's great," Jim unlocked Pam's door for her, and held it open as she moved into the passenger's seat, "He's really the brains of this operation, we couldn't have done any of this if it wasn't for him."

"Really?" Michael sounded skeptical.

"Yep," Jim walked to the driver's side of the car, the phone cradled between his ear and his shoulder as he fumbled with the keys to unlock his door, "He's the heart and soul of our little ragtag group."

"Good to hear," Michael sighed almost aggravated, "Alright, I'll smell you later Jimbag," and then the line went dead.

* * *

"I enjoy challenging my employees," Michael leaned back into his chair, his legs up on his desk, "But I don't enjoy following guidelines," he crossed his hands over his stomach and watched the camera. "So when I challenge my employees I do it unorthadoxilly," he smiled at his use of a large word.

"Some managers would challenge their employees by giving them more work or something," he pointed to himself and smirked, "Not Michael Scott, I challenge them with riddles and brain teasers," he brought his legs down and leaned forward into the desk, "So when people ask me, 'Michael Scott, how are your employees challenged?'" he paused, "I answer, mentally."

* * *

_Coming up - Everyone does some costume shopping and Michael takes a nap_


	6. Princess

_AN: Hey guys sorry for the no update. It was my birthday so I went home and was without Lupé my computer. Also a lot of essay/midterm action on the University front. Which is always nice. Nope. So I wrote this during class, and typed like a fiend to post it tonight. It's about two pages longer than usual, and a lot of stuff is revealed. Which might make some of you angry, and others happy. I'm very **worried** about how you guys will like this chapter, so **please review** and tell me. _

The Scare 

Chapter 6

Princess

* * *

Dwight stood outside a mall entrance. Steel gray letters behind him on a brick wall spelt out 'Steamtown Mall'. He sent a shifty gaze to his left, "I have never been to this establishment before," he didn't seem particularly impressed with the idea of entering it now. "I buy all the goods I need at the General Store next door to my beet farm; although next door is several miles away. The plots of land are big."

* * *

Dwight stood back from the brightly colored display of Halloween costumes and looked rather aloof with his arms crossed over his chest, almost like a spoiled child. To his immediate left Angela stood, her arms crossed as she mimicked his stance. 

"I wish you would just go pick out a costume," his voice was low, his mouth barely opening as he spoke.

Her head wrenched towards him, "I will not. All of these costumes are tainted by Satan. The only allowable costumes are those you make yourself." They moved back to standing beside each other awkwardly until she added, "Why don't you pick one?"

Dwight let out a silent sigh, "Everyone knows when a woman goes shopping with a man, the woman picks everything out." Because he was still staring straight ahead, he didn't notice Angela smile, "Just think of this holiday as Satan's Christmas."

She made a noise of protest, and moved a foot away from him. They settled in their space, and as a woman walked by with twin misbehaving infants in her shopping cart, both Dwight and Angela, scrunched their noses in disgust.

* * *

"Sure I like Halloween," Kevin nodded several times, as Andy fumbled with a pumpkin behind him, "I like sitting at home watching teen slasher movies while I see how many packages of Smarties I can fit in my mouth."

* * *

"We're here for the pumpkin carving class," Andy pulled himself up from the slouched position he had, his hands were on his knees as he gasped for air. 

The farmer barely looked him over once, "Sorry," he shook his head as he rolled up his sleeves and started to collect the mushy newspaper from the picnic tables. "The class is over, and it's supposed to be only for kids."

"Oh come on!" Andy pushed himself back and rolled his eyes as Kevin came trotting up behind him, red-faced and sweaty, "You have to let us do a pumpkin."

The famer looked unmoved as he threw the ball of newsprint into a plastic bin.

"Do it for the spirit of All Hallows Eve," Andy's was very close to resorting on his next move: falling on his knees and begging.

"All right," the farmer threw up his hands, and jutted a thumb towards the patch, "Just go grab a pumpkin and we'll get started."

"Thank you," Andy was full of gratitude and he moved up to shake the farmer's slimy hand, "We'll take any pumpkin you have."

Kevin lifted up a lumpy pumpkin, "How about his one?"

"Ew, no," Andy shook his head and wiped his hands against the front of his suit jacket, "Not a pumpkin with a tumor."

* * *

"Halloween is one of the only holidays where it's okay to drink," Meredith took an extra long sip from her Mega Gulp 7-Eleven cup. Her feet dangled outside of the side door to her van as she sat perched on one of the ripped leather seats. "St. Patrick's day of course you drink. Christmas because of the family, your birthday to celebrate, New Year's Eve because you survived an entire year, New Year's Day for the hair off the dog that bit you, and Valentine's day because you're divorced," she stopped kicking her feet back and forth while shining some insight on her words, "I guess you can drink on any holiday." She paused and took a quick glance behind her, "How did I get to the mall?"

* * *

"I think we should get the Princess one," Kelly pointed to the broad band of pink costumes lining the rack. 

"Okay," Phyllis sounded hesitant, "Which Princess costume."

Kelly's eyes fell half closed as she raised a hand to drum along her lower lip, "That is such a hard question."

Phyllis watched the younger girl walk along the lines of fluffy poufy sleeves and sequined skirts. She didn't think she had seen Kelly concentrate on something so hard, "I'm sure any of them will do fine."

"But I don't know who I like more," Kelly ran her fingers down the silken edge of the dress. "I mean Cinderella gets a blue dress, but Belle has a yellow one, and I look so much better in yellow."

"I thought that was Sleeping Beauty," Phyllis mentioned as all the dresses began to look the same.

"No, Sleeping Beauty has a pink," Kelly replied absentmindedly, her hand flowing over the costumes. "Oh and I forgot about Jasmine. She has like a turquoise belly dancing uniform. I mean it would be totally stereotypical, but if I wear something else Michael will just ask me why I'm not Jasmine. Plus if Ryan comes by I'll look totally hot." Her face was flushed and happy, "Ryan will be so jealous."

"All right," Phyllis agreed with a placating smile. She knew neither Michael or Ryan would see Kelly in the costume, unless she kept it for the next year, which she couldn't see Kelly doing anyways. It was always better to avoid an argument, "We should pay for it quickly, so we don't keep Meredith waiting."

Kelly pulled the brightly colored costume out of the row, "She's sleeping though."

Phyllis sighed and looked away from Kelly's questioning eyes, "But then she'll be awake and we'll have to stop for coffee."

"Oh my God," Kelly exclaimed as she jogged a little to catch up to the older woman, "We should totally go to Jitters."

* * *

"I love Halloween," Creed smiled to the camera, "I get to dress up and get free candy. I even wrote a scary movie script that I hoped to develop but I lost it in a game of Mahjong the first time I went to Asia." He shook his head, a nostalgic look in his eyes, "That script was based on my real life; I believe it was made into a movie called 'Ringu'."

* * *

"Well," Creed jabbed a half-eaten greasy rib towards Stanley and Oscar, "I say we see that new comedy about vampires." He shoved the bone back into his mouth and chewed on the remaining meat. 

Oscar looked at him with wide eyes, "you mean '30 Days of Night'? That's not a comedy. It's about a group of renegade vampires who attack a small town in Alaska and slaughter the populace."

Creed shook his head and with a chuckle added, "Hilarious."

"I do not want to see a movie about vampires," Stanley wiped his lips on a napkin and set it down.

"How about 'Saw IV'?" Oscar suggested.

The other two men nodded their heads in agreement, and moved from the booth.

* * *

"On Halloween I used to stay home alone," Pam adjusted the purse strap on her arm, rustling the material on her coat, "Roy used to go out drinking with his friends, and pull stupid pranks. One time he even ended up in jail," she directed her eyes at the floor, almost ashamed at remembering. "Jim says that Halloween is the best night for watching scary movies with the lights off. So the only thing I have to worry about is him eating all the candy," she paused and pursed her lips, "And him screaming in the middle of the night about bad dreams."

* * *

They both stared at the array of children's costumes that lined almost eight racks, taking up quite a big chunk of the store. Jim was nervous to take a loud breath. Pam had been rather temperamental today and he didn't want to say anything to make her more upset. 

Trying hard not to move his head, he glanced at her moving only his eyes. Her fingers twitched at her side as her eyes clouded over, and when she reached for his hand, he almost let out a shout he was so surprised.

Pam dragged him over to the three-to-five-year-old section, "I think we should get a princess costume." As she spoke her eyes blinked, trying to dry away the tears that made them shine.

"Really?" he questioned, turning his attention to the other costumes away from the frilly and pink, "Because I feel the princess costume has been way over done this year," he tried to make his voice sound cultured and was rewarded when she giggled, "Wouldn't you rather have a cowboy?" he held up the ensemble, with a tiny tan cowboy hat and a cow print vest.

She bit her lower lip as she gauged the two costumes, "I don't know, Jim," she shook her head still comparing them, she gave a quick look down to her coat zipper, than back up to him, "I'm feeling very princess-y."

"Really?" he raised his eyebrows and a hint of a smile grew on his lips as he placed his costume back.

She sent him a sly smile as she shifted through more costumes. He moved down a few feet further to investigate, "I don't even know why we're getting all worked up about this. I mean we don't even know any kids."

Jim glanced up and followed her eyes to the camera that sat a few aisles away. When it turned to him, all he could do was smile sheepishly and shrug, "Next year."'

His answer was obviously too focused for her liking, as the hanger screeched against the metal rod when she put it back. She turned to him, a little flushed, "Yeah, but these costumes are too big—"

"These ones aren't," he held a tiny costume about a quarter as big as the others they had looked at. It looked like a one piece outfit for a newborn, but was decorated like a ladybug, complete with a back hood and two little antennas. He knew she would either walk out of the store, ready to have a breakdown, or she would melt.

"Oh my God," her voice was soft as she rushed over to him and took the costume in her hands. She moved a finger over the fluffy material on the hood, "It's adorable."

"There's other ones," his hand slid a few hangers out of the way, as the other one moved to her shoulder; "There's a bee, and a frog, and a pumpkin."

She shook her head, and leaned into his body, "No, we have to get this one."

"Are you sure?" she handed the outfit back to him, and he arched an eyebrow, "I mean a ladybug is kind of girly."

Pam smiled knowingly and moved forward to place a chaste kiss on his lips, "I'm feeling girly."

* * *

It was a little after three in the afternoon, and as the camera panned away from the wall clock, the form of Michael's body could be seen slumped against his desk, his face mashed into the keyboard as the computer repeatedly made a jingle to inform him that no window was selected for typing. 

After he took a deep breath in, he started to choke on his own saliva, which had travelled down his face and between several keys. He coughed, sitting up in his chair, his back straight and his face red. Small indents of the keys were branded into the side of his face.

"Oh," Michael groaned between coughs, "That was a good nap," he turned his attention towards the clock behind him and his eyes grew wide.

He rubbed his hands together and pulled the telephone closer to him, "I have to call the groups to let them know what the third clue is," he pressed the buttons slowly, almost indicating he had a history of misdialing.

When it began to ring, he looked up to the camera and snickered like he was making a prank call, "Dwight. Yeah. Your next clue is—what do you mean you're still on the second clue. Are you an idiot? It wasn't that hard. Damn it Dwight, that is my joke. Fine. Fine. Fine. Call me back when you're done." He hung the phone back up and crossed his arms over his chest, "Sheesh."

Picking the phone up again, he dialed a little quicker this time, and still smiled with excitement as the other end of the connection rang, "Hey 'Nard-Dog," he shouted into the phone, "Just calling to let you know what the next clue is—What? You're still on the first clue? You're an even bigger idiot than Dwight. How could you…uh huh. Uh huh, I don't care. Just call me back when you're done step two. No I will not remind you."

He slammed the phone down again, and growled to himself. Picking up the phone for a third time, he dialed the next number, not bothering to double check it. His fingers drummed against his desk and after a few moments, he slammed his hand down on the receiver, "Stanley's phone is off."

He bit his lower lip and looked as if he would burst into tears at any moment, "You know you try to set up a fun day for your employees, and they thank you by ignoring you or being idiots." He swallowed his impending tears, and pulled the phone back to his ear, "But I still have Jim."

He dialed the number and waited his teeth grinding together nervously, "Fat Halpert," he greeted into the phone, his voice normal, "I just called to tell you what the third clue is. Are you done the second one? Good, that's great, okay so the third clue is—What? No, Jim, not after you're done having a snack. This is a race. Well, yeah well that doesn't make any sense. And you know what? Would you really rather eat than get Salesman of the Year? Tacos? Wait, where are you? Will you bring me back a taco? Alright fine."

He placed the phone down and looked at the camera, "Well apparently Jim and his group have stopped at Taco Bell for a snack," he shook his head, looking at the blotter on his desk, "I'm not even going to phone Phyllis' group. They're probably overturned in a ditch somewhere. That was just the pity group really."

* * *

"Did he even tell us where we had to go?" Pam snuggled further back into her coat as she waited for Jim to turn on the heat in his car. 

He rolled his lips and shook his head, "Didn't even mention it, he was kind of lost after I said taco." He moved his hand to the switch and turned the heat on high.

"Thanks for stopping," she knew she'd said it a million times, but other people probably wouldn't have stopped, "We're probably in last place now. Dwight probably found out Michael's schedule ahead of time and is already done."

He shrugged and turned towards her, "I guess we'll have to settle for sloppy seconds."

She turned to him, her fingers barely visible from her coat sleeve, "I'm glad it doesn't bug you."

"That," he leaned back and ran a hand through his hair, "is not what's bugging me."

"What's wrong?" Pam moved forward in her seat, and placed a hand over his on the console in the middle.

He sighed, like he had something important to say, "It's nothing, it's just," he paused and looked at her, "You had Mexican food."

She giggled, "So?"

"So?" he posed and when she didn't answer, he did, "You hate Mexican food. Ever since that hot sauce fiasco a few years ago. Today you doused everything in it, you had four tacos."

"Three and a half," she argued back as she slumped against the chair, "You didn't eat half of yours."

"Pam," he moved his back against the seat and sat face out the front window. His hand was drifting over his chin as he finally said, "You're pregnant."

She glanced to the camera in the backseat, and then to Jim, who hadn't moved, "I know."

* * *

_Coming up- The third clue is revealed, and it makes most people very angry._


	7. Mazes

_AN: Okay super short chapter compared to most (only four pages) But the next chapter will wrap everything up and I didn't want it to be super long. So there's the rub. This one kinda explains more about Jim and Pam, and who's excited and who's not... One more chapter to go and then NEW STORY! So yay!_

The Scare

Chapter 7

Mazes

* * *

"Okay, so everyone is going to be so stoked when they realize they have to drive all the way back to the Daniels' Farm to go through the corn maze," Michael bounced back and forth in his chair, "And then back out to the mall to buy a bag of candy," he was wheezing with laughter now, tears peaking at his eyes as his face turned red, "And then back out to the Daniels' Farm for the haunted house."

* * *

Dwight glanced at his watch and then folded his arms back into place with strategic movements. Angela, who stood a few feet away from him now, didn't move at all. Another woman with a child sitting in the bulk of her cart pushed by them. The kid glanced up to Dwight smiling, in return, Dwight's left nostril twitched a little.

"So many tiny people," Dwight mumbled as he watched the preschooler be wheeled away around the corner. Angela sighed, and squeezed her arms in tighter to her body. He turned to her and voiced, "I wish you would just pick a costume already, we've been here for eighty-four minutes."

Her eyebrow moved up as she watched him, glance at his watch, and then back to the costumes, "If only I haven't made Mose that puppy costume already."

"Fine," Angela sighed and reached out, picking a fuzzy angel costume for an eight-year-old, "We can buy this and I will donate it to the good will box at my church, that way the sin on it won't rub off on me."

"Excellent," Dwight agreed and followed her loyally to the check out, with his phone flipped open, "Michael we've completed the second task. Okay, the Daniels' Farm? Alright Michael, I won't let you down," he flipped closed his phone and smiled as the lady scanned the costume, "We have to go through the corn maze at the Daniels' Farm."

Angela looked to him with disbelief, "We were just there, he's wasting gas money and the toxins are tearing apart the ozone layer so he can play his childish games."

"Angela," Dwight's eyes met hers, and they seemed to be begging.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, but we're staying there until he tells us what the next two events are."

* * *

Stanley was standing in front of a blurred movie poster; Oscar was collecting a movie magazine while Creed was trying to inveigle the concession counter girls to give him a free bag of popcorn, stating he had invented it.

Stanley held up his telephone to the screen, and pushed a button on it, "You have eighty-seven new messages," the automated voice droned.

He brought down the phone, and stared at it sadly, "I hope Terri didn't call."

* * *

"So whose mom do we tell first?" Jim questioned as he climbed out of the car, Pam was already standing on the familiar gravel, her feet moving back and forth to keep warm, "Because you know which ever one doesn't know first is going to hold a grudge."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, and when he walked passed her, she joined him as they headed to the corn maze behind the apple orchard, "We could do a conference call."

"Excellent idea," he smiled, his eyes shining, "Although that would entail telling Michael, and I don't think I'm ready for those comments just yet."

She sighed, shaking her head at the coming nine months of rude comments, "Maybe I can last the entire time without him knowing."

"You could stay behind your station," Jim exhaled a breath that turned into a wisp of smoke against the growing cold, "Then just move behind me when you have to go anywhere."

Pam smiled, but it was rueful, "Like the bathroom sixteen times a day?"

"You already go like ten," Jim pointed, and tried but failed to avoid her fist, "hormones," he shouted as he rubbed his forearm.

She raised an eyebrow, "You want hormones? Because I can give them to you."

"I just want to get to the corn maze with all my limbs intact," he answered, his feet crunching over the dried leaves lying on the dirt path.

"And I just want to go home, order a pizza and eat chocolate bars all night," she stifled a yawn and glanced over his way.

"The simple things in life," he grinned wistfully and couldn't help but let a tiny piece of the elation that was overflowing inside of him get out, "But what if we get lost in the maze?"

They were now only a few yards from the wall of grayish-green stocks, "Jim, it's built for preschoolers."

"Yeah," he nodded, another puff escaped his mouth, "Plus, if we do get lost, I bet Dwight will help us."

"You would get lost," Dwight snarled as the couple approached him. He was paying the four dollars for Angela and himself to be allowed to venture through the maze.

Jim moved up closer to him, "I know, that's why I'm glad you're here."

Angela scoffed, and with a harsh look moved away from them to examine the volume of corn.

"Unlike you," Dwight continued to berate not even noticing Angela was gone, "I have a system."

Jim handed the familiar farmer a five dollar bill and indicated he could keep the change, "Really, and what is that?"

Dwight looked as if he was torn between gloating and telling Jim about his superior intelligence, "I've torn up an old red shirt, and plan to leave remnants throughout the labyrinth so I can always return to the start if I need to."

"Wow," Jim exclaimed and found it suddenly sad that Dwight was serious.

Dwight took the answer to be one of doubt, "John Locke used the same technique in Lost, and he is still alive."

"You do realize it's for kids, right?' Jim added, his face puzzled.

"I still expect inherent dangers," Dwight reached into his pocket and pulled out a red piece of cloth.

The farmer watched, with his mouth almost agape, "It's for kids, it just goes around in a semicircle and then a right turn and it's done."

"Well that doesn't sound difficult at all," Dwight replied, his voice holding some dismay.

"That's because it's for kids. I don't even know why you're here, but after this I want you both to leave, it's bad enough that guy badgered me into giving him and his mentally challenged brother a free pumpkin," the farmer pointed over to the lone picnic table, where Andy was attacking a pumpkin with one of the dull knives, and Kevin was asleep.

Jim's eyes grew big as Pam muffled her laughter. Andy glanced over and threw the pumpkin with the knife stuck through the side onto the ground and began to wave, "Tuna! Pammers!" Both his hands were now in the air.

"You guys know him?" The farmer questioned with disbelief.

"Oh yeah," Jim answered naturally as he waved back to Andy who gave him a thumbs up.

"Why didn't I guess," The farmer mumbled as he closed his cash box.

Dwight sighed with impatience, "I'm sorry but if we're done with all this girl talk, I'd like to get one with the death defying labyrinth," he had one of the red piece of fabric tied around his head to keep his head from his eyes, "Angela?"

She walked around from the opposite side of the maze and sent him a glare, "I've already done it, Dwight."

* * *

"Do you think we can pull out of it?" Kelly questioned as the tails of her coat swirled at her legs, the wind was blowing harder as the sun began to set.

Phyllis shook her head, her bottom teeth digging into her lip, "I think we'll need to call Triple A."

"I don't belong to that," Meredith informed, only her legs visible from the open side door of the vehicle.

The van itself was slanted and stuck on the muddy slop of a ditch and there was no traction left in the back tires to pull it up.

"I'll call Bobby," Phyllis excused herself and moved back to alongside the dirt road for better reception.

From inside the car, the noise of Meredith vomiting could be heard. Kelly winced at the disgusting sound and covered her ears until she was sure it had stopped. "Boy am I glad that pumpkin was here."

"My Kelly-pumpkin," Kelly screamed and opted to scramble against the rocky side roads to get away from the van.

* * *

_Coming up - The remaining groups regroup back at the office_


	8. Jar O'Lantern

_Hey guys, last chapter, yay! It sums things up pretty nicely, and tells Jim's feelings on the 'situation'. My next story is already in the works (as is the one after it) so expect it up tomorrow or the next day._

The Scare

Chapter 8

Jar O'Lantern

"So," Michael began, the sun was barely visible through his window, and the streetlights flickered on. "Apparently some farmer threatened my groups, which is really weird you know, because I thought farmers were supposed to be nice."

Pressing his fingers together a smile grew on his lips, "Actually when I was little, my mom was friends with a farmer. He would come over to our house, like every Friday night and he and my mom would have so much fun playing board games in the basement with the door closed. They were always laughing," his eyes clouded over as he thought of the memory, "Anyways he always let me ride on his tractor, well once. And for some odd reason when he stopped coming over, I was walking by his farm on the way home from school, and asked if I could ride it and he said no. So I guess all farmers are jerks."

"Anyways, I told my boys to fight it, I mean Jim's a big guy, Dwight is scary looking, Andy's got spunk and Angela hates everything, so they should've been able to convince some farmer to let them stay," he held his face in his hands with disappointment, "Jim said he was already in his car, Andy wouldn't stop singing the Monster Mash, and Dwight asked me which type of fighting style he should use."

He stared at the cameras, his face deadpan, and looked away, "I hung up on all three."

* * *

"Today was a good day," Andy smiled almost dreamily out the passenger's window. He had several pumpkin seeds drying in his hair, "I'd say it was easily the best Halloween ever."

Kevin sat in the driver's seat, his hands strangling the steering wheel, as he drove in an anger silence.

Andy turned, as he did two seeds tumbled from his head and fell between the seats, "I think we're definitely going to win this."

"Dude," Kevin took his eyes off the road for a second to give Andy a half lidded glare, "We're so going to lose."

"Kevin," Andy pushed the other man's shoulders, causing him to jerk the wheel. The car veered but returned back to its original path, "Our pumpkin rocks, okay?"

"It's smashed," Kevin reminded as the camera pulled back to the backseat of the car where a jar full of a smashed pumpkin sat. It had two triangle eyes, and a mouth full of crooked teeth drawn on in a purple magic marker.

"I was doing fine with it, until you sat on it," Andy whipped his body back towards Kevin, ready to defend himself.

The car jerked to a stop at a red light, "You cut it in half."

"It's called art, okay Kevin?" Andy hit the dashboard and sat for a moment stewing in his own anger, "How could you not see a big orange leaking glob of pumpkin?"

Kevin pushed himself away from the steering wheel, "I had to tie my shoe okay?"

"Fine, fine, "Andy threw up his hands in a mock defensive position. A silence filled the car as it jutted forward at a green light. They were only a few blocks from the office, "Smashing pumpkins would be an awesome name for a band."

* * *

"I hope all the trick-or-treaters haven't come by my house yet," Kevin stood in the parking lot by the glass doors to the office, the orange lights, sending an eerie glow down on him, "I'm the one who gets to dress like a zombie and jump out at the kids," at this thought he began to giggle.

* * *

"You took that corner too fast," Angela held herself into place by pushing against the dashboard.

The car slowed, and lurched over the slope as it pulled into the office parking lot, "I was driving at the standard speed."

"I saw the speedometer," her voice was cold.

Dwight pulled into his regular spot, the car sputtering to a halt, black smoke still shooting out of the exhaust. Dwight jiggled the keys from the ignition and turned towards her, "I apologize for the speed, but after someone tore down all my markers in the maze, I had to get the upper hand by beating Jim here."

Her face was stoic as they both moved from the car. Dwight was manhandling the trunk, with his Cylon pumpkin tucked safely underneath his arm. She watched him, and mixed emotions plagued her face, "Dwight?"

Still bouncing the trunk down to the car as it wavered back and forth he looked up to her, then with one violent shove, slammed it back into place, "Ha, take that," he brought out a long leg and stopped just short of kicking the back compartment.

* * *

"Oh I love my car," Dwight's voice spoke over a video of him kicking each tire for air content, "But I hate the trunk."

* * *

Turning his attention to Angela, Dwight waited as she seemed to shift uncomfortably before him, "Is it something you can't tell me?" before she could reply he added, "I'll try to guess it. Does it have to do with pirates? With global warming? Is it about beets?"

"Dwight," Angela's voice was louder to catch his attention. He stopped talking and stared at her, as she adjusted her coat and looked off to the side, "I just wanted to say," she glanced back at him quickly, and then off to the other side, "That today wasn't the worst day of my life."

As soon as her sentence ended, she rushed away, pulling the collar on her coat closer together. Dwight watched her go with a shadow of a smile.

* * *

"Jim, Pam," Michael's voice was harsh and he glared daggers at them as they entered the conference room. Andy, Kevin, Dwight and Angela already sat waiting for them.

"Oh, we found Meredith's van overturned in a ditch by the farm, so we waited and tried to phone Meredith, but somehow ended up talking to Kelly," Jim and Pam took a seat next to each other and he added under his breath, "For fifteen minutes."

"And we all knew they'd end up in a car crash," Michael shook his head, and didn't notice the distressed expressions of everyone else in the room. He turned back to Jim, raising an eyebrow and cleared his throat, "Jim?"

Jim watched his boss, his eyes squinting with question, "Oh," he realized what Michael wanted. He reached into his bag and tossed Michael a wrapped taco.

"Interference," Dwight shoved his chair back and pointed at Jim, "That is tampering with the judge."

"Wait, is it interference or tampering with the judge?" Jim questioned as he leaned forward on the table.

"Dwight," Michael moaned and placed the taco into his jacket pocket, "Just shut up okay, and let's just get out of here okay. On Oprah they had dogs dressed in little Halloween costumes, I TIVOed it and I'm getting a little impatient."

"Well boss, I think that you can stop looking for your winner after you see our excellent jar o'lantern," Andy shoved the clear glass container of mashed pumpkin across the table, and immediately Pam's attention turned to the floor.

Michael glanced to the jar, and then back at Andy, "What's this?" he questioned as he reached forward and grabbed the jar. Feeling the slick complexion of marker and pumpkin juice against the jar he recoiled from it and let it fall to the ground with a crash. "Ah, what the hell is that?"

Pam swallowed hard from beside Jim, and pushed away from the table, "I need to use the washroom." She hurried out of the room as Jim watched with concern.

"It's the new revolutionary pumpkin," Andy leaned over to see the pile of orange ooze piled on the carpet, "Think of how long you could keep pumpkins if they were in a jar."

"God," Michael's nostrils flared, "That is even worse than the time Todd Packer left a package on my carpet," he moved away from the mess and stood beside Jim.

"No it's not," Jim folded his arms and shook his head.

Michael stared at the pile soaking into the carpet, "This is all you got done in four and a half hours? That's horrible."

"I tried," Andy replied, his voice cracking a little.

"Just go," Michael waved at everyone "It's obvious none of you care, Jim doesn't have a pumpkin—"

"Pam and I gave it to the farm, she actually got an offer to come back next year and teach and adult class," Jim informed as he smiled at Pam, who was walking over to the reception desk.

"Blah, blah, blah," Michael mocked and then looked at Dwight and Angela, "You two don't have a costume."

"We donated it to charity," Angela informed.

"Oh come on," Michael shouted, and he threw his hands out, "This isn't Christmas, this is the time where you take stuff from people, not give it to them. God." They sat still in the room for a few minutes as Michael breathed through his nose hard, "Just go home already."

"Yes," Kevin stood up and rushed out of the room passed Michael.

Dwight stood, looking utterly defeated, "But who will win?"

"I will have to decide on another dangerous feat to see who is worthy enough," Michael explained and moved out of the conference room.

Pam looked up from her desk and saw him, "Michael," she beckoned him over, "Ryan sent this memo, it says since you didn't get back to him by five, that he picked a winner already."

Michael ripped the paper from her hand, as Jim gave a questioning look. Dwight scrambled out of the office and beside Michael. "It says Dwight shall be crowned the winner because he defeated the computer in sales."

"Yes," Dwight shoved his hand into the air and turned towards Jim, "In your face."

"Congratulations Dwight," Jim grinned shook Dwight's hand.

"Every year is the same," Dwight chuckled, delighted with the plaque that would be placed with all this other plaques. Behind him Angela smiled.

Jim made a face to Pam who smiled; she reached out and touched his hand, "Let's go home."

He returned her smile, and moved around Dwight who was now doing a victory dance that Michael obviously taught him.

* * *

"This," Dwight held a plaque that had 'Salesman of the Year 2007' inscribed in gold ink on it, "Is just more proof that things always remain constant," he paused his smile wide and goofy, "And that my life never changes."

* * *

Jim shrugged, "It's okay that I didn't win, I really didn't expect to. Dwight almost needs this award," he paused and grinned blissfully, "I have other things in my life to look forward to."

* * *

_Next story - Is called 'The Break In" and deals with a small crime spree that hits Scranton_


End file.
